


And What If You Did?

by Snapperoni



Category: Dragon Ball
Genre: Gen, Near Death Experiences, but not in the fic- it's more so just talked about
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-04
Updated: 2020-12-04
Packaged: 2021-03-09 22:54:10
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,846
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27874169
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Snapperoni/pseuds/Snapperoni
Summary: The destruction of King Piccolo and the successful rescue of Tien should have elicited nothing but joy and relief. However, Yamcha couldn't help but feel betrayed at Tien's brash decisions that got him in trouble in the first place.
Relationships: MAYBE tenshinhan/yamcha if you squint?????, Tenshinhan & Yamcha (Dragon Ball)
Comments: 2
Kudos: 7





	And What If You Did?

Despite the terrifying events that occurred mere hours ago, the occupants of Kame House found themselves relatively calmed down, Bulma and Launch now occupying the kitchen as Yamcha sat with Tien on the couch within the living room. A white, battered first-aid kit was left exposed to the ceiling, various items already missing from inside. 

“Stop fidgetin’, man,” Yamcha admonished, wrapping the bandage he held in his hand tight around Tien’s right forearm. “I can’t do this right if you’re gonna be moving all over the place!”

Wincing at the wrapping’s firm hold, Tien willed himself to stay still as he sat on the couch. “My bad. It stings a bit.”

At that, Yamcha gave a particular tug on the roll before cutting it free from the wrap with scissors, placing it back into the box before reaching for the medical tape. Ripping a piece off, he began to tape down the wrap in silence.

Being able to survive King Piccolo and his spawn’s wrath was something Tien expected to find impossible- actually, he was fully prepared to die today. But now finding himself back at Kame House in the safe hands of his comrades, he allowed himself to calm down and just be grateful that they thought to come by the site of the fight at all. Even if he was ready to sacrifice himself in the name of pride, the prospect of death still proved to be intimidating.

The contents of the box clattered around as Yamcha rummaged for a pair of tweezers, grabbing a small bag of cotton balls and a bottle of an antiseptic of some sort. “...What you did was really dumb, you know.” Satisfied with the box’s services, he nudged the box away with his elbow before turning to face Tien in front of him.

It was probably tasteless, but the miniscule chuckle managed to escape Tien anyway as he found interest in the throw pillow. “I already told you why I was going to do it- and I’m fine now, right? No harm done.”

The abrupt grip and jerk of his jaw striped Tien’s apathy away as he was forced to look at a considerably displeased Yamcha, his brows furrowed and his lips beginning to form a thin line.  _ “Look at me.” _

Compared to Tien, Yamcha was _far_ from intimidating- especially when his broken leg was blatantly in view, cast and all. But whether it was the knowledge of the reason  _ behind  _ his broken leg or the rare, serious tone Yamcha had, Tien couldn’t help but feel himself shudder and his breath hitch, guilt beginning to settle in the pit of his stomach.

Content on Tien’s attention towards him, Yamcha briefly released his face to dab a cotton ball with the antiseptic, the tweezers shaking in his hand as he took hold of Tien’s chin once more. “I can’t believe you: just ready to throw yourself away like that…”

Tien wasn’t too fond of repeating himself, so he stayed silent, Yamcha’s direction with the cotton ball wobbling as he finally brought it up to Tien’s cut lip. When the chemical-soaked swab came in contact with the wound, he couldn’t refrain from hissing in pain. Perhaps, however, this was a worthy form of punishment considering his rash decisions.

“I-I don’t even know what to say to you,” Yamcha admitted, yet he found himself pressing the swab against Tien’s cut with more force, allowing the liquid to further contaminate it. If he were capable, Tien would have already bit his lip to stop himself from crying out, instead opting to groan in agony. “...What if you actually did it, huh?”

“Then we’d all be safe, I would have died-”

_ “And you would have died!” _ It was atypical for Yamcha to interrupt someone, but if the tightened grip on Tien’s jaw was anything to go by, this was just the tip of the true magnitude of his emotions. Satisfied with cleaning Tien’s busted lip, Yamcha tossed the cotton ball into the trash can he brought over prior to his nursing. While his eyes lingered on the can for a few moments, with a deep breath Yamcha brought himself to return his eyes to Tien’s, his face notably more somber than angry this time around.

“...You would have died, so be straight with me: why?”

Frustrated at the seeming cycle of their conversation, Tien couldn’t help a scowl from forming onto his face.  _ “I already told you-” _

“That’s not what I mean and you know it.” Just as quickly as Tien was agitated, he found himself swallowing the rest of his sentence, the sweat collecting against his temple beginning to fester further. He couldn’t stop himself from flexing his hands, Yamcha’s glare becoming too demanding to look at directly anymore.

“Why were you so ready to die? And I _don’t_ want to hear about ‘fighter’s honor’ or- _whatever!_ You have so much more going on in your life, so why put yourself in so much danger!?”

Wetting his lips, Tien cringed at the bitter taste of the antiseptic as he began to delicately chew around it. “It had to be done.”

“It  _ didn’t  _ have to be done, as it turns out.” Yamcha felt his temper begin to bubble as he glanced around the room, reminding himself that he really was in the reality where Tien didn’t even cast a second thought when enacting his suicide mission. “Hell- and if it _was_ necessary… I…” Yamcha began to fumble on his words, his feeble attempt to properly string together the ideal sentence coming up terribly short.

Perturbed by Yamcha's intense reactions, Tien braved himself to question him about it. “What’s the big deal? Everything would have been fine- I would just be dead.” 

“That’s the thing!” Ironically, because of Tien’s carelessness for himself, Yamcha was finally able to grasp onto his point as he returned his leer to Tien. “And I can’t even _begin_ to think of a life without you in it! I mean, did you even think about how we would feel when you were getting ready to _kill_ yourself!?”

If Launch and Bulma weren’t privy to the conversation at this point, Yamcha’s enraged outburst would have definitely filled them in on what was going on now.

Mouth agape, Tien just stared at Yamcha’s shaking form, at this point forcing himself to maintain eye contact. There simply was no way Tien could have prepared for such a response; when Chiaotzu died less than a day ago, he hadn't even considered anyone else who would have mourned his loss. Truly, he expected himself to go out quietly once King Piccolo was sealed in the rice cooker- if only the container itself hadn’t been chipped as a result of his failed attempts to perfect the Mafuba. After that, it would have been up to someone else- or more probable, the vultures, to decide what to do with his corpse.

But now before him Yamcha was trembling, his jaw uncomfortably clenched as he reached for the first-aid kit before slamming it closed at the mere concept of Tien mindlessly ending his life. With the box shut, no more wounds in need of tending to, the room began to fill with a molasses-like atmosphere, the air becoming unbearably thick and bitter as it became hard to breathe for either man.

It was shameful, but Tien could only allow himself to look down at his lap, the sheer selfishness of his actions and intentions finally dawning upon him. His apology teetered on the tip of his tongue, but the thought of saying a word only reminded him of disciplinary strikes from an abandoned past. Thus, he held his piece.

Seeming to get a grip on his emotions, Yamcha allowed himself one more deep breath and relaxed his shoulders. He, too, could feel nothing but the tips of his ears burn with embarrassment because of his actions, finding comfort in merely staring at their nearly-touching knees. “S-sorry. I just…” Yamcha’s head felt akin to lead as he forced himself to look at Tien’s downcast head, sucking in one of his cheeks to actually give himself time to think of his next words. “You’re just… Really important to me. And I don’t know what I’d do if you were gone.”

That was the second time Yamcha managed to blindside him with words, foreign words of compassion and warmth being but a garbled- though welcoming, mess to Tien's ears.

_ But you have Bulma- and the others, too, _ bristled against Tien’s constrained lips, but he somehow obtained the knowledge to properly read the room and decided that the comment was inappropriate. “I didn’t think you felt that way…” Their time together as allies was fairly short, but he found it difficult to deny how quickly they’d grown together- perhaps they could even call themselves “friends” at this rate.

Now confronted about his rather tender feelings, Yamcha's cheeks flushed as he chuckled, absentmindedly plucking at the hairs budding at the base of his neck. “Well, yeah. We had a really uh… _crap_ start, didn’t we: but you’re not that bad of a guy, you know?”

Was it pride that began to populate Tien’s heart that someone of Yamcha’s caliber- or anyone, for that matter, was willingly praising him with such a confident look on their face? And not even in regards to his fighting prowess, at that. Whatever the feeling was, it tickled Tien’s chest enough to cause a break through his stern frown and mirror Yamcha’s diaphanous smile.

Just as the room began to settle, the tension melting into a sweet, liquidus honey, the wrapping of knuckles against the kitchen’s door frame enraptured Tien and Yamcha’s focus away from each other, Bulma being the culprit of such theft. “Hey, you two done? Launch just finished lunch.” Patting her stomach, Bulma licked her lips in feigned hunger. “And  _ you know... _ I haven’t eaten all day!” With that, she turned on her heel to return to the kitchen table, leaving the pair alone once more.

With any grievances or displeasures purely evaporating from the room, Yamcha began to stand up and outstretched his hand for Tien to take. “You can still walk, right?”

Looking from his hand back up to Yamcha’s face, Tien scoffed in disbelief. “I should be asking you that.” Nevertheless, he clapped his hand over Yamcha’s forearm and hoisted himself up, decidedly leaning against him as the two started to hobble towards the kitchen.

With the duo nearing the kitchen, Yamcha pouted his lips and glanced at the floor. “...So your  _ right  _ leg’s busted, right?” 

Perplexed at the sudden question, Tien looked down and reassured himself that, yes- he was currently putting more pressure on his left leg than his right. At that conclusion, he provided a silent nod, to which Yamcha grinned at. 

“Hey, together we make a totally-functioning person!” Even though Yamcha beamed and laughed at his own joke, Tien even catching Launch giggling in the corner, he himself only felt his face catch ablaze, a mixture of regret and bashfulness drowning his once-pale complexion in a deep red.


End file.
